


The Cafeteria Explosion that Sparked My Heart

by Skry_Cat



Category: Monster Prom (Visual Novel)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, I just love this concept, fight me, have my cute headcanon for these two, it's not even my main ship for this game, please
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-07
Updated: 2018-05-07
Packaged: 2019-05-03 10:37:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14567181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skry_Cat/pseuds/Skry_Cat
Summary: In which Damian causes another fire/explosion in the cafeteria and Vicky suffers the results with his help.(pffft, what did I just write for this summary? It's fluff, not angst, ok?)





	The Cafeteria Explosion that Sparked My Heart

            There was no warning between the time when the cafeteria was at its usual hum of activity and when the flames suddenly engulfed the entire area. Vicky dropped her sandwich, eyes wide as she looked around frantically for the escape. She had just gotten all her limbs securely stitched in place after the last event at the school. The last thing she needed was a fire burning up the threads.

            Rising, she held her hands over the newly sewn lines on her arms as she skirted by people, avoiding fire patches and coughing through smoke. She couldn’t see very well and she had to duck down and hold a hand over her mouth to keep from inhaling too much smoke. Why did Damian always have to do this? He’d gone so long since the last cafeteria fire, she thought he was over that phase.

            As she passed the window that led to the kitchen, a flicker of light caught her eye. It was different from the orange and yellow fire. She squinted through the window, catching sight of the flames getting too close to the grease containers. Her eyes widened and she tried to duck down, but it was too late. The containers caught and the explosion that followed echoed for several blocks. Vicky felt the blast through her very core as she was ejected from the building with the rest of the debris.

            After a short sensation of flight, there was the crashing finale that left her rolling across the asphalt of the parking lot. She skidded several more feet, only spared by the fact that her nerves had been deadened long ago to any kind of pain. Being a Frankenstein monster had its perks on occasion. When the motion finally stopped and the ringing in her ears dulled, Vicky slowly pushed herself up to sit down and take inventory.

            Black and white hair was frazzled, but intact. Face seemed right, screws still set in place on her neck. She could see both feet and legs, functional. The rips in her jeans were trendy, she supposed. She went to dust off her knees when the real problem presented itself. Only one hand and arm came forward to accomplish the task. Gasping, she reached over, feeling at her empty sleeve as she looked around for the missing arm. “No, no, no, no!” she whimpered as she searched the area.

            But there it was, a few yards away, twitching to get her attention.

            Vicky crawled over, picking it up and biting her lip as she checked the connection point. The flesh was still healthy. She could reattach it. But her lips started to tremble. Just that morning, her mother had told her she needed to stop coming home in pieces. It was getting arduous putting her back together. And she hadn’t really developed the skill to reattach limbs well yet. She’d been studying while her mother did it, but her father was more critical of the situation. He kept saying how it was time she learned to handle herself before college.

            She set the arm in her lap and rummaged in her pockets for her thread and needle. If she could just attach it well enough to keep the connections from deadening, she could get help later. The nurse or someone might be willing to help without sending a note home about it. Tears clouded her vision as she rolled back her sleeve to get the arm lined up. She wiped back the tears, but more came as she tried to adjust the position.

            “Yo, what’s with you?”

            The Frankenstein gasped, pulling the sleeve down over the joint to hide it as she turned to see Damian approaching. He looked equal parts confused and judgmental. And a torrent of rude insults and angry remarks flooded to the front of her thoughts. This was all his fault after all. But then – being angry and making him maybe cause more destruction didn’t seem like it would help. So Vicky just huffed and turned away, holding her arm in place and hoping he would leave her be.

            He didn’t.

            Instead, he crouched down next to her, his tail flicking with curiosity as he tried to get a better angle on the dislodged arm. “Did something happen to you?”

            Her features weakened, saddened. “N-n-no. I’m fine.”

            Damian’s eyes widened slightly. “Wait, shit. Did that explosion hurt you?”

            She shot him a half-glare. “What do you care?”

            He winced and she could see the internal battle – angry snark or continuing with what felt like…caring? “I care cause I don’t like fucking owing people shit. If I actually hurt you with that little game, it’s only right I fix that.”

            Vicky looked away. As much as she disliked his wild inability to control his actions, she couldn’t help the crush she’d been harboring on him for some years now. Any attention was welcome from him, once she got past blaming him for her current situation. “You can’t fix this one, ok. Just let me do this on my own, ok?”

            “Let me see it.”

            He didn’t wait, and she didn’t have time to stop him, before he pulled her sleeve back to reveal the disconnect between arm and shoulder. Vicky recoiled, but was too mortified to protest. She just watched in shocked horror as he ran a finger along the torn skin where the stitches hadn’t held. She bit her lip again and looked away. That’s where any feeling she did have left was still the most present and she had never had someone other than her parents touch the joins before. Why did it have to be Damian?

            “It’s totally disconnected,” he muttered. “Come on.”

            Damian took her other hand, pulling her to her feet and leading her out of the parking lot.

            “Where are you taking me?” she said, shocked and amazed as she looked at how casually he just carried her other arm.

            “The bathrooms.”

            “The bathrooms!? That’s so unsanitary!”

            “Doesn’t matter,” he muttered.

            “What?!”

            “Just shut up and trust me, ok.”

            She thought about fighting, about pulling away or screaming. But she couldn’t risk the stitches on her other arm without checking their integrity first. Plus, he had her other arm.

            In the bathroom, Damian helped her up onto the counter. He rolled back her sleeve as much as possible, exposing the entire circle of ragged skin. After a short inspection, he gave the same attention to the detatched arm. Vicky kept quiet, focusing her effort on not freaking at how much he was inspecting any part of her body. Then his yellow eyes met hers and her thoughts silenced. He looked so intense. Did he really feel so strongly about not owing her?

            “I’m going to cauterize it together.”

            She blinked. “What?”

            “I’m gonna burn your arm back onto your shoulder.”

            “Will that work?”

            He shrugged. “Fuck if I know. But it’s gotta be better than stitching it like that where your skin moves so much. Whoever put you together wasn’t really nice when they chose a connection at a joint like that.”

            She blinked again. Why – why did he know that about Frankensteins? “O-ok.”

            “It’ll probably hurt.”

            “I can take it.”

            He nodded and got started, lining up the arm. He stood back a bit to make sure it was angled right and then he held up to fingers at the beginning of the circle. It was warm, and then it was hot, then it was searing. The smell of burning flesh started to fill the room. And she felt pain. Vicky grit her teeth, but he’d only gotten about a third of the way before tears started to stream down her face again.

            “You said you could take it,” he growled. “I can’t stop til the end or it won’t work.”

            “Sorry,” she whimpered.

            “Lean on me, bite my shoulder if you have to.”

            So she did – well, she didn’t bite him – but she hid her face in his shoulder as she tried to block out the pain with other senses. She could smell him when she was this close. He smelled like fire and brimstone. But it wasn’t vile. He was also warm, so warm even her deadened senses could still feel it. It felt like something she could associate with softness in a strange way. His undershirt was silky on her skin. She never imagined being this close to him without him trying to kill her. She – she liked it.

            “Hey, it’s done.”

            His voice was distant. She hadn’t realized the pain had stopped while she basked in the sensation of him. Eyes shooting open wide, she pushed back from him and started several stuttered, failed sentences and excuses. He just smirked at her and nodded towards her shoulder. “Looks like it works anyway.”

            Vicky blinked several times before realizing that she was holding him back with both hands. Holding up the newly attached arm, she turned her hand and rolled the elbow to text dexterity. Her jaw dropped. It actually seemed to work better than it even had before. She checked the joint at her shoulder. There was a slightly messy, but complete scar there with pretty, spiky edges and a nice pinkish hue that would dull out later to a very nice scar.

            “I wouldn’t move it too much at first – just enough to maintain full motion while it’s healing,” he muttered, his hand scratching over the back of his neck.

            Cauterization was usually an expensive process because of how few demons or djinns were willing to help in what they considered a trivial task. Vicky blinked at Damian in silence, unsure what to say. “Wh – ”

            “Don’t go asking and making this awkward,” he cut her off.

            “But how did you know?”

            “I – pay attention in class sometimes,” he muttered with a scowl.

            This wasn’t covered in class. “Oh.”

            This time it was him looking away and mumbling. “Don’t mention it – like, really. Don’t ever bring this up to anyone. I don’t want any other Frankensteins expecting shit from me.”

            Vicky’s expression softened into a smile. “Ok.” – then she dared to lean forward, pecking him quickly on his turned cheek – “Thanks, though.”

            His eyes widened and she thought she saw a blush. But then it was gone and he shoved her back – gently, almost playfully. “Whatever. We’re even now.”

            Damian turned and skulked towards the door. Vicky stayed in place a while longer, admiring her newly cauterized arm and the range of motion it provided. She hadn’t expected the explosion that day, but she really hadn’t expected for it to spark something more in her opinion of Damian. She hoped – hoped beyond all hope– that maybe that wouldn’t be the last time he talked to her. And that thought made her cheeks turn rosy.


End file.
